I am going to write a book...................

A quick review before I move on with this weeks subject. Apparently Farmville has some connections with PETA because I received some very stern commments about my thoughts on farm animals and other assorted items on that very subject. I especially enjoyed the housewife/professional woman from Michigan who thinks I milk chickens and collect cow eggs. Although I admire her courage in writing I would have to say she wouldn't know the difference between a Johne Deere tractor and a Dear John letter if it came postage due.

So I was driving down the street here in Worthington, Ohio on Monday morning with my co-worker Chris. As we were sitting at a stoplight I noticed a bumper sticker on the car in front of me which read, "Knitters are knotty." At this point I mentioned to Chris that we needed to meet the two people in that car for obvious reasons, the first being they must be hell raisers and the second being they might know my mom. I know, I know you are asking yourself, "Why would they know my mom?" Well it stands to reason that people who knit or do thinks like that, usually know one another. Years ago my mom made an afghan for our couch so, as I said it stands to reason they might know one another. I sped up and attempted to pass them and wanted to ask them, "Hey, do you know a lady by the name of Betty from Gibsonburg, Ohio who made an orange, yellowish colored afghan for her green couch back in the 70's?" Unfortunately they turned right at the Library just as I was about to side-swipe an oncoming SUV.

Back to my point. Conversations like this need to be put into a book which I will title, "Conversations in a Car." Oh yeah and the other thing, maybe our little blog group should think about having a get together for all the people we know who knit and do things like that, we can call it "Afghan Fest."

Farmville and Facebook Followup

It has been about 24 hours since I last posted and the emails are flooding in about my Farmville comments.

Curtis Hanson from New York, New York writes:
"Dude take a chill pill about Farmville. This is all in good fun and by the way my corn crop is busting out."

Dear Curtis,
Ah dude, the chill pills you are referring to are the Viagra your doctor prescribed and just a note, I don't need any Viagra. Secondly, that corn crop that is busting out in your pants is from the blue pills. Go farm yourself.

Yours always, Rudy


Wynonna Smithson from Uclid, Alabama
"Um, hey, Farmville is lotsa fun. why you crankin' on it?"

Dear Wynonna,
There is only one Wynonna in the world that I would respond to with respect and she sings country songs with her mom Naomi. So get back with me when you and your mom get back from buying matching tube tops from Wal Mart and learn how to play the banjo.

Regretfully, Willie Nelson's cousin

P.S.
There is no such word as lotsa, I won't even comment on "Crankin'" and make sure you brush your tooth before you call me again.


By the way I am thinking of inventing a game called, "Humanville." You setup a make believe online person and pretend to do real life things like getting a job and making up friends.

Thanks

Facebook, Etch-a-Sketches and You

Admit it, you are board out of your skull because Survivor is on summer hiatus and you don't have my rants to read each week. The only thing you have to do is empty your cat's poop box, clip your toenails and wonder if Coach and Jerri ever hooked up. Oh yeah and before I forget, if anymore of you frickin' city folk livin', starbucks coffee drinkin', ipod usin' twittering fools who call yourselves my friends ever send me another invitation to either join your facebook page or play "Farmville," as God as my witness I will hunt you down and shove an non-imaginary garden rake up your butt. I'll even come back in three days to see if you have any little garden rakes growing out of other orifices of your body and whether or not they are ready to harvest. And speaking of Farmville, I don't have pretend to plant crap around an imaginary farm, drive a fake tractor and make sure the goat gets milked at 5:00 pm sharp. I grew up on a farm and did it live and in person. So before I get to my Facebook rant and since I don't text message poeple I put down an Etch-A-Sketch message for those of you who continue to invite me into your web world. And for those of you who are stupid, please don't attempt to pick up your computer screen and shake it over your head to erase it, this is permanent.



DOUCHE BAGS



Now to facebook. What middle management, wanna be, friendless, 30 something IT guy who can't get a date invented this? Yes earlier last week in between emptying the cat's poop box (which by the way doesn't belong to me) and clipping my toenails I decided to respond to one invitation to facebook. For the love of God I didn't know a third of the World's population would respond. Seriously though I think I got ten invitations from people who wanted me to "Be their friend." The funny part is the emails were from people who ARE MY FRIENDS with the exception of that one girl who I think I saw in a porno once or my sister Julie who by state law in Ohio has to be my friend. And to top this off I have to hit a button "Confirming that you are my friend." WTF is this? The invitations stop now, you have been warned.
NEXT WEEK
My ideas to CBS about incorporating Lawn Jarts and Hula Hoops into challenges and having somebody other than a trained monkey hiding the hidden immunity idols.
Toodles